


Vieux Carré

by Kangofu_CB



Series: Obscure Holiday Sexcapades [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smutty Sunday, and some bars, and some drinks, just smut as far as the eye can see, plot so thin you could use it as a window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 22:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB
Summary: Duo and Trowa have another drink together.  Of course, that's not all.Smutty Sunday contribution!





	Vieux Carré

Duo pulled open the door to La Taberna, deliberately ignoring the fact that he was there hoping to run into Trowa.

Because how fucking pathetic was that?

Active denial was a lifestyle choice he’d decided to embrace.

Last week’s bad date derailment had resulted in one of the best nights of his life, but he’d had to leave the next morning, because he had a life and obligations and shit like a job to get to. So they’d swapped numbers, and a hot kiss before he’d walked out the door, and that had been that. There’d been a few, more than a few, really, texts, since, light hearted and funny and interesting. But that was all. He was starting to think he should get over it and move one.

Duo certainly couldn’t bring himself to forget about it, much less regret anything that had happened. There was a burgeoning friendship growing in the texts, and he told himself he should be grateful for that. It seemed really good, to be honest, but there’d been no mention of an actual date, or even their night together, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit to some disappointment about that part.

So here he was, it was Fat Tuesday, and a joke had been made about Mardi Gras, so he figured what the hell. He’d thrown on a few strands of plastic beads and headed for the bar. If Trowa wasn’t there maybe he’d send him a selfie he could play off as a joke, but either way he could have a drink, maybe some food, and enjoy himself.

And, his traitorous brain reminded him, maybe Trowa would be there.

Making his way to the bar, he pulled his phone out, debating whether to send a text, barely aware of his surroundings. The restaurant wasn’t very busy, he easily navigated to a barstool while scrolling through messages from the last week. Levering himself onto the stool, he heaved a sigh, and slid the phone in his pocket, message unsent.

And looked up into familiar green eyes. Above a very familiar smirk.

Behind a very familiar bar, prepping for the evening rush.

“You work here?” Duo blurted out. Belatedly realizing his blunder, he opened his mouth to apologize when another bartender bustled around the corner, a case of something in his hands.

“Yo, boss, where do you want these?”

Trowa didn’t even turn to look at the object in question, still smirking at Duo. “In dry storage. They’re for Cinco de Mayo.”

“Wait… you’re, like, the manager here?” Duo was increasingly confused. He’d never, ever noticed Trowa serving or bartending in all the times he’d been to La Taberna, which, frankly, was a lot some weeks, and here he was behind the bar deciding things. He pinched himself under the table.

Ok, not a dream.

A server ducked behind the bar to grab a glass, reappearing above the bar top with a snort. Duo recognized him as his server from last week, actually. Chris, or something, if he remembered correctly.

“Manager? He owns the joint. Clint called out this afternoon, he’s just waiting on the evening bartender to show up. He’s not even doing anything important.” A roll of his eyes and Chris - or whatever his name was - disappeared back to the main dining room.

Duo boggled at Trowa, whose smirk was turning wry.

“Wait, so you OWN this place?” Duo gestured at the bar. “Like, it belongs to you?”

“Yes. The bar is mine. Also the stools, the tables, the kitchen, and the building. The people though, I don’t own those.” Trowa was quietly laughing at him, enjoying his little joke, Duo was sure.

It certainly explained a lot about how he had convinced the waiter to actually deliver the drink during his date. What other circumstances would convince a person, whose livelihood depended on making an evening go well, deliver a drink from another person to someone already on a date. Though, obviously, the server didn’t feel intimidated by Trowa’s status, given the interaction he’d just witnessed. Clearly he’d been more than happy to accommodate.

Jeeze, how bad had the date looked from the outside?

Really, really bad, Duo decided, based on his experience of it. He’d probably looked like he was contemplating a long walk off of a short pier.

Duo studied Trowa, mind wrapping around the idea that he owned one of his favorite bars. Actually, that had potential. He could probably finagle a drink or two…

He smacked his hand down on the bar, a sudden thought occurring to him. “You didn’t pay for my drink!”

Trowa blinked, mystified.

“The drink you bought me! You didn’t actually buy it because you own the bar! Therefore, you owe me a drink!”

The green-eyed man smirked, reaching for a glass. “Alright, what kind of drink do you want?”

“Ohhhhh no, pal, you owe me a real drink that you pay for at a bar you don’t own. In fact, you owe me two drinks, because I bought you a drink, and thus you profited twice!” Duo grinned triumphantly, confident in his logic.

Chuckling, Trowa replaced the glass he’d picked up, leaning forward, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, what bar would you prefer your drinks be procured at?”

Duo leaned back, surveying the other man, surprised by his easy concession. Obviously, he wasn’t going to have to twist his arm for another night out. Maybe he should have tried this tactic sooner. He considered his options.

Trowa was dressed a little less casually today, from what he could see, in dark jeans and a black collared shirt, sleeves cuffed at the elbow. Duo himself had tossed on a blazer over his tshirt and jeans, on the off chance he might run into the other man. They were dressed alright for what he had in mind. Good enough for a Tuesday, anyway.

“You own any other bars?” he checked, just in case.

A teasing grin. “No, just the one.”

Duo’s responding smile was dark and heated. “You ever been to Carousel? It is Fat Tuesday.”

*

Carousel was a replica of the infamous bar of the same name in New Orleans, though it didn’t spin like the original. It was part speakeasy, part supper club, dark and smokey, and obscenely popular during Mardi Gras. On the weekend, it had a dress code. Duo loved the atmosphere of the place, bluesy and opulent, usually with live jazz.

Plus, they made fantastic drinks. Duo brought two of his favorite back to the table he and Trowa had commandeered in the corner. He slid into the small corner booth, close enough that they couldn’t avoid brushing against one another, and passed the second to his companion. “Cheers!” he said, lifting the glass, “here’s to your bar tab.”

Trowa laughed, tapping the edge of his glass in return before lifting it to look at it in the light. “What am I drinking?” He asked, examining his offering. Presented in a short, heavy bottomed glass, filled nearly to the brim with amber-colored liquor, the drink was clearly a craft cocktail, chilled by one very large cube of ice, and garnished with a skewer of cherries so dark they looked like blood.

Duo slid one of the cherries off the bamboo pick with his teeth, biting into it while he sipped the drink. He hummed appreciatively, swallowing the fruit behind the alcohol. “Decadence in a glass. It’s a Vieux Carré, which is some kinda famous shit in New Orleans, but I get ‘em for the cherries. They make them with Luxardo maraschino cherries here, which are basically the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

He paused, thoughtfully. “Well, one of the best things.” He glanced at Trowa out of the corner of his eye, smirking.

The other man was practically smouldering at him over the edge of his glass, eyes sparkling. “One of the best, huh? You have a top five list?” The arm that had been resting along the edge of the booth snaked its way over his shoulders, fingers tangling in the loose strands of his hair. Duo shivered at the touch.

He shrugged, casually, leaning into the warm body next to his own, his hand dropping down to rest on a firm thigh. “I have my preferences.” He took another sip from his glass, enjoying the smooth burn of the liquor, the sweetness of the cherries.

Another heated look. “So you’re a man of discerning tastes?”

Duo laughed, the verbal byplay finally getting the best of him, unable to maintain the seriousness required to keep up. “Yeah, you could say that. I know what I like when I see it, anyway.”

Trowa smirked at him, all heat and lust. “Me too,” he said, meaningfully.

Duo had a sudden, visceral flashback to last week, in Trowa’s apartment, leaning against the door panting, asking Trowa if he liked what he saw. When he blinked, erotic images of their night together painted themselves across his eyelids in technicolor detail. He flushed, arousal washing over him in a liquid rush. His breathing stuttered, blood rushing to his groin.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The smile on Trowa’s face was enticing, responding to the change in Duo’s mood. He shifted closer, their bodies pressed together intimately in the booth, fingers stroking the exposed skin at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns there.

Goosebumps erupted in the wake of those stroking fingers. The other man was damnably observant. Duo reached for his glass, chasing relief in the cold liquor. “They’re not for polite company,” he responded, verbally sidestepping, flush on his face betraying him.

“Who said I’m polite?” The words were murmured near his ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine. His breathing hitched again, momentarily, and Duo scrambled for his wits.

“That’s true,” he rallied, gulping in air, “you didn’t even pay for my drink last time, after all.”

A warm chuckle, brush of lips against his neck and then Trowa leaned back, granting him a reprieve. “I can see that you’re not ready to let that go. What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked, his voice rough, erotic. Duo was relieved he wasn’t the only one affected by their banter and proximity.

“I can think of one or two things.” He paused, looking at the remains of his drink. One cherry and just a scant layer of liquor at the bottom of the glass. He downed the remainder, rolling the fruit around in his mouth before crushing it between his teeth and savoring the flavor. “Here’s probably not the best place for them, though. I like this bar, it’d be a shame to get thrown out.”

*

The cab ride this time was less barely contained excitement and more slow burn of anticipation.

They leaned in close to each other, Trowa’s hand again over Duo’s shoulders, absently fiddling with the end of his braid, Duo’s fingers tracing designs on a denim-covered thigh. Outside Trowa’s building they shared their first kiss of the night, all sweet, tart fruit and expensive liquor, languid and erotic, the heat of it adding fuel to the flames.

Inside the apartment they left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, Duo laughing as he purposefully removed his shoes and socks near the door, giving Trowa a look. His blazer found a home on the living room floor, Trowa’s shirt dropped near the bedroom entrance.

In the bedroom, their mouths parted just long enough for Duo to strip his shirt over his head, then he was reaching, grasping for the smooth skin and firm muscle of Trowa’s back, both of them stumbling their way to the bed. Duo fell backwards onto the mattress, Trowa following him down, lips immediately searching out his mouth again before trailing hot kisses down his neck.

Encountering the beads Duo had forgotten about, he fingered the colorful plastic, chuckling. “I thought you were supposed to get these after you took your shirt off?”

“It is off,” he said, emphatically, breathless, reaching for the taller man, who obliged, pressing their bodies together, still smiling. Duo arched up, grinding their burgeoning erections together, wiping the smile off his face in favor of a gasp and a clenched jaw. He dragged his nails down Trowa’s back, tucking his fingertips into the gaping waist of the jeans, pushing forward for another hot thrust.

Trowa tilted his face down, nibbling kisses along Duo’s jaw before he biting down firmly along his neck, hands blazing a path over his body. Duo hissed, hips jerking. “That’s not fair, you’re using my weaknesses against me.” It didn’t stop him from turning his head, providing more access. A hot swipe of tongue over the spot accompanied the warm laugh he got in response.

Trowa trekked downwards, mouth leaving hot brands of sensation along his skin as dexterous fingers first blazing paths down his skin, then working the snap on his jeans. Teasing kisses and nips covered his upper body, teeth grazing nipples, tongue sliding along his ribs, dipping into his navel. There was a moment of cool air as his jeans and briefs were worked down, over his hips and then he was engulfed-

“Holy shit!”

There was the vibration of laughter, he felt through his cock, Jesus!- and then that hot, wet, tortuous mouth was pulling upward, the suction incredible, distracting him from his thoughts, he never even noticed his jeans disappear, nor Trowa’s-

And that mouth was descending again, and again, clever tongue flickering across sensitive nerves, teeth scraping along the bottom just right and his hips bucked, caught in strong hands, unable to help himself.

His hands were buried in soft hair, fingers twisting as he strained against the hands holding him and there were words-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohmygod, Trowa fuck-!”

And then the world imploded, all hot, wet suction and electric sensation, lip caught between his teeth as his breath exploded out in a drawn out moan.

Reality reasserted itself in patches, first with his own ragged breathing, then the sensation of calloused fingers stroking up and down his side, a hard cock pressing against his hip.

Trowa tilted his head down, lips millimeters away, paused and waiting. Duo tilted his chin to meet him, tongue plunging past his lips, tasting himself and the remnants of cherry liqueur. The other man moaned, rocking his length against Duo’s thigh and Duo reached to grasp the hot, firm flesh, sliding his hand up and down. Another moan and then fingers were brushing against his entrance.

He broke away with a gasp, arching into the touch. The fingers trailed away only to return quickly, cool and slippery. He groaned in relief, slim digit penetrating him, as he worked the erection still in his hands. Trowa leaned back, pulling himself out of reach, chuckling again as Duo whined in protest, then gasped, a breathy “Ah!” accompanying the stretch of a second finger with the first.

Slow and easy seemed to be the order of the night, and Trowa took his time preparing Duo, all sliding fingers and slippery gel, until his erection was returning, and he was gasping Trowa’s name and saying please, over and over. Fingers finally, finally pressed against him, deep inside, eliciting a shocked gasp, his cock twitching, head thrown back, fingers clenched in the sheets.

And then Trowa kissed him, deep and searching, finger sliding slowly out, only to be replaced by firm, delicious pressure, his body yielding easily, Duo panting and moaning into the kiss. He found his hands buried in silky hair again, pulling, as though it were a lifeline he could use to chase the sensation he was searching for.

Slow burn, as the thrusts were shallow and smooth, burning him from the inside out, and he tugged and begged and pleaded for harder, firmer, faster, which Trowa ignored, panting brokenly, hands holding his hips in place. Gradually increasing his strokes, brushing that spot again.

Duo’d forgotten his own name by this point, just a grasping, groaning, creature of need and want, nails scratching, feet planted on the bed to try to gain purchase.

“Harder, fuck, please, fuck me harder, more!”

He felt the smirk against the side of his neck, before the other man leaned back, hands grasping his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, harder, faster, almost slamming into him.

“Ah!”

“Like that?”

Duo could hear the smug self-satisfaction in his voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Yes, fuck yes, just like that.”

Trowa set a brutal pace, slow retreat, followed by a sharp snap of his hips, cock driving deep, brushing his prostate just enough to keep him on edge, not enough to send him over and Duo was going crazy, scrabbling for purchase, reduced to wordless noises, practically begging and then Trowa pressed his knees forward just enough and goddamn he was wrecked, just sobbing cries of pleasure and it was-

“Jesus, fuck! Ohmygod-”

He was coming, all burning heat and arching spine, and Trowa was groaning his name and he prayed to anyone listening that he got to hear that again because it was fucking amazing and then they were both panting, draped half off of the bed, ears ringing.

Only when he was sliding more off than on the bed did he finally get up the energy to nudge Trowa up and off of him, figuring it would be more uncomfortable to fall in the floor than actually, physically move. Trowa stood, pulling Duo with him for another heavy kiss, one that would have led to something more, if they hadn’t already had the more, and then reached for a towel he hadn’t noticed earlier hanging on the back of a chair nearby. Swiping both of them off, he yanked the sheets back, dragging Duo with him into the bed.

When they were settled into a lax, post-coital tangle of limbs, Duo chuckled. Trowa made an inquisitive noise, and he responded “Guess I’m stayin’ then.”

Trowa nipped his shoulder in retaliation, both of them relaxing into the mattress.

*

Duo woke up in a comfortable, if somewhat unfamiliar, position - pressed up against a firm back, morning wood nestled oh so perfectly against an ass he’d had opportunity to admire before. Humming appreciatively, he pressed his lips to the shoulder in front of him, arm tightening around Trowa’s waist. Receiving an agreeable murmur in response, he rocked, just a bit, into that firm backside, hand drifting just a bit lower, teasing.

Another agreeable noise, a responding press back into his cock, and the half-hard erection he’d been sporting sprung to fruition. More rocking, his hand drifting even lower to reacquaint itself with the erection growing firmer by the moment, until they were both panting and flushed. Trowa twisted to share sloppy, open mouthed kisses, breaking away with a throaty groan as Duo gave a particularly expert twist of his wrist.

Lips and teeth pressing across the shoulders available to him he rolled just enough to grope for the bottle of lube that had been dropped, abandoned on the mattress the night before, and which Duo vaguely recalled rolling over and removing during the night. Finding it, he flipped the cap open, squinting far too much lube onto his fingers before tossing it aside. Reaching down he slipped his fingers between the cheeks, stroking, pressing against that tight ring of muscle…

Trowa moaned, pressing back, shifting his leg to give him better access, and how could Duo deny that invitation, sliding his finger past the entrance into impossible heat, groaning at the tight sensation. His cock twitched in anticipation.

His other hand, under Trowa’s neck, was stroking whatever skin it could reach, petting firm chest muscles, tweaking nipples. Trowa arched, pressing his upper body into Duo’s touch and his lower body more firmly against his touch.

Another finger and they were both panting, Trowa practically mewling, feet restless against the sheets, rocking into his touch, and it was so goddamn hot he was probably going to lose his damn mind, stretching and stroking inside the other man, and what had started as a slow and easy morning fuck was quickly becoming hot and needy and anything but slow.

Giving another twist of his wrist, he pressed deeper, stretching farther, searching for the place that would make stars explode and-

Trowa jerked with a strangled grasp, hand flying up to grab the arm around his chest in a death grip, and Duo didn’t even have to rock his hand anymore because Trowa was riding and he figured that was probably a good sign that he was ready, and thank God he’d gotten too much lube because he had no goddamn idea where the tube was now as he swiped the extra on his dick-

And then he was sliding, pressing into Trowa as the other man pushed back, Duo trying desperately to be careful, Trowa demanding more in a low throaty voice that just fucking undid him, made him stupid, and finally he was all the way in, impossible as it seemed, hot and tight and amazing.

Duo had the presence of mind to reach for Trowa’s erection, dragging his still-slick hand from tip to base, and then it was all over for conscious thought. Trowa was rocking against him, knee thrown back over his leg, and Duo was pistoning into him, pressing him a little more over, onto his chest, hand pulling furiously at his erection, hips slamming into the other man’s over and over.

Panting and writhing in the bed, what Duo could see of Trowa’s face was contorted in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut, lips parted and Duo was overwhelmed with a need to see him come, stroking along his cock with more presence of mind and purpose, feeling his own end creeping up on him.

He bit down on Trowa’s neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh there, and Trowa shuddered, the cock in his hand swelling and Duo growled in his ear. “Come babe, come for me, yeah just like that.” With a choked yell, he did, his body becoming, unbelievably, tighter, bucking into Duo’s grip, and that was all it took, Duo coming too, hips slamming into Trowa’s, rhythm stuttering, breath rushing out in some kind of aborted shout-

And then nothing, just white noise and thoughtless void for long seconds, before he was back to himself, sated and panting, body draped half over Trowa’s, cock still buried inside of him. A few more minutes, or hours, who knew, really, and he slid out, slowly, Trowa shuddering in front of him. Planting a few more kisses along that elegant neck, he ran fingertips along the other man’s thigh, breathing still uneven.

Long minutes later, after their breath had evened out and their skin had chilled where the blankets had been kicked away, he ventured a thought.

“What’re you doin’ for St. Paddy’s day?”

Huffing a laugh, Trowa used a corner of the sheet to wipe himself off, turning over to face Duo, feet tangling together. He leaned in for a proper kiss, hands burying themselves in Duo’s messy braid.

Pulling back he said, “If our track record holds, hopefully you. But maybe we could go to dinner in the meantime?”

Duo pulled him in for another kiss, soft, lingering. “Yeah,” he grinned, “I’d like that. Just not at any restaurants you own.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to ChronicWhimsy for the quick look-over before I posted this! My Smutty Sunday fics always seem to get done at the last possible moment.
> 
> Also, thanks to TheManwell for poking at my muse until I HAD to get this one out!!! 
> 
> Carousel is based on the same, real bar in New Orleans, though it does actually spin there and is very cool if you get the opportunity to visit. 
> 
> Vieux Carré is a real drink AND DELICIOUS.


End file.
